Of Braids & Belt Buckles
by superwholockian22
Summary: Thorin wants to court Bilbo Baggins. So naturally, he gets drunk, performs some dwarven marriage rites, and screws everything up royally
1. Chapter 1

Of Braids & Belt Buckles

At first, Bilbo thought it was just a belt buckle. Or perhaps the hilt of Thorin's sword, Orcrist that was prodding him in the back. He considered bringing it up, but Thorin was cross enough about having to share a pony with him and he dare not anger him further. Behind him, Fili and Kili were huddled as close as their mounts would allow, whispering to each other. Bilbo turned to get a better look at the brothers, when a steely arm clamped itself around his waist.

"Stop squirming, hobbit." Thorin growled, "or you'll be walking." Before Bilbo could reply, a voice rang out a few paces behind them.

"I'll be glad to take your burden for you uncle," Fili said, barely restraining laughter, although what he was laughing at was lost on Bilbo. The hobbit could almost feel Thorin's grimace, and the arm around Bilbo's waist tightened, pressing that buckle further into the small of his back. The hobbit just sighed and reached for his pipe. Dwarves.

By the time the company had reached a suitable resting spot, the arm clamped around Bilbo's waist had become uncomfortable, and Kili and Fili's sniggering was grating on his nerves. Thorin halted, announcing that they would be making camp here for the night, and dismounted swiftly. The dwarf turned and offered a hand to help Bilbo down, but the hobbit just stared at him, incredulous. Bilbo turned and dismounted on the opposite side, just missing the pained expression on Thorin's face. Fili walked by laughing.

"Maybe you should have bought him dinner first, uncle." he said smugly. Thorin looked up, his surprise evident.

"Go get firewood Fili," he seethed, "I'll deal with you later." With that, the king-to-be turned and began giving orders. "Kili, go with your brother; Dori, Nori, Ori, get the ponies unpacked; the rest of you, form a hunting party and set up for a meal." Bilbo watched the dwarves go about their duties, and glanced back at Thorin. Their leader watched them proudly and Bilbo remembered what he's said back at Bag-end. "Loyalty, honor, and a willing heart, that is all I ask." Looking at Thorin now, he could see why they were all so willing. He no longer saw a lost prince on a fool's errand. He saw a king, a light to follow when the world went dark. Thorin Oakenshield was the heir of Durin, and if by life or death Bilbo could help him reclaim his throne, he would. Mid-revelation, Bilbo realized that he was not the only one staring. Grey eyes gazed at him darkly, and a small smile played across Thorin's features. Bilbo looked down at his feet.

"Uh, sorry, just lost in thought." he mumbled, avoiding the dwarf's searching eyes. Thorin looked pleased, and a deep chuckle rose from his throat.

"Yes, there is much to think about." he said, and with that, turned and walked on into the clearing, leaving Bilbo smiling, albeit confused. The hobbit thought Thorin would be angry with him, grumbling as always about how 'useless' he was, but the dwarf had managed to surprise him. In fact, Thorin had been doing that quite often lately, and something about the change put Bilbo on edge. That dwarf was up to something.

"I intend to court Mister Baggins." Thorin's voice rang through the still night air, safe from the ears of the hobbit, who was sound asleep behind a tree, unknowingly draped in the jacket of a certain dwarf king. This announcement was met with rowdy laughter from the company. Balin's voice rose over the rest.

"We know. Just because we're subtle about it," he paused to send a withering glance towards Fili and Kili "doesn't mean we haven't noticed. Durin knows we tried not to notice, but we did." Thorin smiled.

"It is true I took no great measures to hide my affections. I only bring it up now because I seek your approval. And if you give it, I would ask that you keep any word of this from reaching master Baggins." Thorin looked up at his nephews. "Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, uncle." they chimed in, laughter melting into the surrounding darkness.

The journey wore on through field and forest, and by Gandalf's guidance they found themselves standing in Rivendell, much to Thorin's discontent. Although the food was not much to the dwarves' liking, the elves seemed to have acquired an abundance of beer. This discovery was met with much rejoicing on the part of the dwarves, and they stayed late into the night enjoying it. Most of the younger dwarves retired early, as did Gandalf, and slowly the celebration dwindled, till the dim moonlight fell upon only two faces. Bilbo's voice broke the silence.

"Well, this has been a lovely party, and by far the most lively I've ever attended, but I'd best be getting to bed." Thorin stared. Uncomfortable in the oppressive stillness, Bilbo stood, skirting around Thorin. At least, that was his original intention. Mid-stride, Thorin's hand reached out and pulled him down. Bilbo landed clumsily in the dwarf's lap. He was about to move off Thorin and start apologizing profusely, but there were hands. In his hair. Thorin Oakenshield was running his hand through Bilbo's hair and humming appreciatively. "Thorin…" the hobbit began, "What are you doing?" Thorin just smiled, unaware of Bilbo's discomfort.

"Your hair is very soft, hobbit." he slurred, leaning down to smell the top of Bilbo's head. Bilbo struggled to find words.

"Thorin," he said "you are drunk" Bilbo felt a laugh rumble against his back.

"Be that as it may, I want to tell you" muttered Thorin.

"Tell me what?" Bilbo asked. "that my hair is soft?" The dwarf looked mildly confused, then spoke again, this time so close that Bilbo could smell the beer on his lips.

"I am courting you. Was it not obvious?" The hobbit's eyes grew large, and a squeak escaped him.

"You really mean this?" he asked tentatively. "I mean, will you mean it in the morning?" Thorin didn't answer the question, simply tucked a stray lock of Bilbo's hair back into place and murmured something that sounded like 'beautiful.' Bilbo could feel the tips of his pointed ears growing red, he'd never been the object of such affection before, and certainly never from one so important. Thorin spoke again,

"I would ask that you braid my hair Mister Baggins." His tone seemed too serious for such a frivolous request.

"Uhm, I'm not very…" Bilbo started, but his voice left him when he looked up at Thorin. His eyes were huge, and he not-so-skillfully avoided Bilbo's gaze by staring at the ceiling, but the hobbit could see tears welling up at the edges. "I'd love to." he said. Bilbo grabbed at Thorin's hair and began twining the strands together, and the dwarf started to sing an unfamiliar song, the likes of which he had never heard. Bilbo shivered.

_Two as one twisted together_

_Lives entangled till the end_

_Fair or foul we both shall weather_

_Any storm that fate may send_

_Years wear ever on_

_Dawn then dusk then dawn_

_Love will last till life has passed_

_Say forever with this song_

Bilbo woke alone, and as his sleep-fogged brain cleared, the memory of the night before returned to him. He smiled to himself, got up, and set out in search of a good meal. Thorin and the company were already grumbling over an elvish breakfast, and discussing the previous nights activities. Thorin spoke loudly through a mouthful of food,

"In truth, I don't remember much of what transpired last night. Last I remember clearly is Balin and Dwalin downed a keg together. After that my memory fails me." Bilbo's heart sank. He was about to slink back to the fireplace to nurse his wounds, when clever eyes found him.

"Mister Baggins!" Kili called, "You're awake, come join us." Thorin looked up when he heard Kili's words, and Bilbo fought to ignore the tightening in his chest. Plastering a smile on, he shuffled toward the end of the table, choosing a spot where he did not have to look at Thorin. What Bilbo needed right now was to forget. He wished now that he'd had more beer, maybe then he's be able to forget everything that happened between them. He felt ridiculous really, mooning over a man that could never possibly want him, but he could still feel it. He could feel Thorin's hands in his hair, hear his voice singing softly. It was too much. Bilbo stood and curtly excused himself on the way out the door.

After the rest of them had finished breakfast, the company loaded up the ponies and set out again. Thorin rode ahead as usual, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. It was unpleasantly different to ride alone, he found himself missing Bilbo's warm weight in front of him. Every time the sounds of laughter drifted up on the wind, he stiffened. Bofur and Bilbo noticed, but dwarves are notoriously bad at stifling laughter, and Bilbo did not much care whether they were annoying Thorin. He enjoyed sharing a horse with Bofur much more than that stupid dwarf king, with his ridiculous hair and handsome face, and that irritating belt buckle.

As their travels moved into the mountains, the rest of the company began to feel the silence between their king and the hobbit, but none dared speak of it. Thorin was unused to rejection, and the sudden lack of encouragement from the object of his desire had left him bitter and moody. Thorin's brooding was especially hard on his nephews, who had been delighted about their uncle's choice of mate. With the exception of Thorin, they were more hurt by this situation than anyone. The hobbit still spoke to them, but every time Thorin was mentioned, even in the slightest way, he would mumble an excuse and run off. Eventually, they too stopped trying. The journey into the mountains would have been difficult enough without there distractions, but the company remained silent, out of respect for their king and affection for the burglar they'd begun to think of as a brother.


	2. Chapter 2

Bilbo didn't like mountains. They were cold, unfeeling, and the air was too thin. He longed for the meadows of the shire, grass beneath his feet, pipe full of Old Toby, and a book. Most of all, he missed warmth. Because if there existed any feeling less agreeable than climbing a mountain, it was climbing a mountain in the rain. Bilbo opened his mouth to voice his complaint, but thought better of it, because he didn't want to draw attention to himself. Besides, the company's eyes were all fixed on... on... well he wasn't quite sure, but they were all staring at something. It appeared as if the rocks on one of the peaks was shifting. Perhaps an avalanche? No, the rocks were moving upwards, they were standing. Bilbo could hear the company screaming above the roaring wind. 'Storm giants!' said a voice, as the cliff face above him began to crumble away. A rift formed between Fili and Kili, and Bilbo only caught a glimpse of Kili's horrified expression as the two swung away from each other. The company was on the legs of a massive creature, all stone and power and rage, caught in the throes of a battle they neither had, nor wanted a part in. Rain pelted Bilbo's face, and he clung to the craggy rock with his whole body. The giants were in full swing now, throwing boulders and blows, paying no heed to the puny creatures trapped in the storm. One of the groups had jumped to the relative safety of an inanimate ledge, one that Bilbo was now hurtling towards at an alarming speed. The impact caught him off guard, and he lost purchase on the rock and flew off into the open air.

Thorin couldn't find him. Every other member of the company had been thrown clear onto the ledge, but the burglar was nowhere to be seen. Images pushed their way through Thorin's mind, of a small body broken on the jagged rocks below. He saw what once was rosy cheeked and brimming with life laying cold in a ravine, or dying in his arms, all the strength of a dwarven king useless as Bilbo's eyes moved frantically across his face in a plea for help. Thorin had said once that he would not be responsible for the hobbit's fate. Even then he knew he'd been lying. The dwarf looked up, someone was shouting. Thorin could see Bofur reaching down, hand grasping at air but never quite reaching his target, and all thought was gone. Any trace of cognitive ability he'd once had drained from him, leaving raw instinct at the wheel as he lunged. Over the other dwarves and towards his burglar he flew, and off a cliff. Thorin held the precipice with one hand, hoisting Bilbo to safety with the other. Once the hobbit had both feet safely planted, Thorin let out the breath he'd been holding and felt himself relax into the arms of the company as they hoisted him back up the cliff.

Fili and Kili announced that they had found a cave in which to spend the night, and the wind battered and rain soaked dwarves filed in wearily. They were far too tired to ponder the implications of an uninhabited cave appearing this high in the misty mountains. Before the company had time to let the ache settle into their bones, sleep was upon them. Bilbo, however, could scarcely shut his eyes, despite the fact that he hadn't had a good nights sleep since... well, since Rivendell. Avoiding Thorin was proving to be a highly ineffective strategy. In fact, the more he stayed away, the more he could feel the dwarf kings heavy gaze following him. Bilbo knew that Thorin was confused, and for that he was deeply sorry, but he couldn't bear having to talk to the dwarf again. The hobbit knew what would happen if he allowed himself ever that simple pleasure. There was a part of him- something Tookish no doubt -that wanted. Wanted with an unabashed selfishness that frightened Bilbo to no end. He was afraid that he got too close, his Tookish blood would up and do something damnably stupid. He could let slip the events of the night he was fighting so hard to forget, or even worse, he might kiss Thorin. Oh, how Bilbo wished he had never agreed to go on this quest. He would give all the books in bag-end if he could just leave now. But then again, maybe he could. After all, everyone else was asleep, and he was quite sure that they could all forget him easily enough in time. Bilbo stood, the thought still forming in his mind. It was surreal, the idea that he could actually leave. The hobbit pulled his bag off the ground and began walking out, the beginning of a slow trudge back to the shire.  
"And where do you think you're going Mister Baggins?" said a familiar voice. Bilbo jumped, eyes flitting here and there about the cave, searching. Bofur sat lazily at the entrance, staring pensively out at the night sky. Well, thought Bilbo, he couldn't very well avoid this.  
"I'm going home," he murmured, lowering his eyes. Why did it have to be Bofur? The dwarf stood.  
"You can't leave!" said Bofur. "You're one of us now." Bilbo scoffed, and took a few more steps towards his friend.  
"No Bofur, I'm not." Bilbo said, heat welling up behind his eyes. He choked on the words. "I can't stay here, I have to leave... I can't bear it." He was crying in earnest now, ashamed of the emotions he'd held in for so long. Bofur shot him a questioning look, and Bilbo motioned for the dwarf to follow him. Across the cavern, dark eyes followed their departure, pain evident even in the suffocating darkness. After a while, the pair returned to the cave, muttering softly to each other. Thorin could not catch all the words, but he heard the last part clear enough.  
"Now i'll have to tell him, won't I?" lamented Bilbo.  
"I'm afraid so little burglar." Bofur replied, doing a decidedly poor job of sounding concerned. "So he really sang..." The dwarf's voice trailed off.  
"Yes, he sang to me. It was beautiful, really, even if I didn't know what it meant." Across from Bilbo, Thorin seethed. He certainly hadn't been doing any singing, so who was the hobbit speaking of? Thorin almost hoped, for the safety of whatever personage held his hobbit's esteem, that he never discovered them.  
"What's that?" asked Bofur. Bilbo looked up, surprised by the fear in the dwarf's voice. Bofur was looking at sting. Tiny fragments of light were escaping the scabbard, and as Bilbo drew the weapon, the cavern took on an eerie blue glow. Thorin sprang to his feet, rousing the company with harsh shouts. A crack at the far end of the cave began to grow, and as the company backed away from the crevace, the ground beneath their feet fell away, plunging them into a putrid tunnel inside the mountain. Down they tumbled, piling on top of each other in a cagelike trap on a precarious ledge. As the goblins descended, Bilbo got an all fours on the ground and fell back, unnoticed. Perhaps now he could find a way to save the company. And his husband.


	3. Chapter 3

Of Braids & Belt Buckles (Part three)

Bilbo stumbled down the slope over rocks and tree roots, away from the screams of the creature.

"Bagginses! We hates it! We hates it forever!" The voice rang, following him as he ran. Bilbo stopped to breathe, heart pounding in his ears as he gulped down air. Hobbits were definitely not designed for running, he thought. Turning his head, Bilbo listened for noise, any sign of Thorin or the company. When he could no longer hear his heart beating, and his labored breathing had calmed down, the hobbit caught the faint sound of voices on the breeze. Bilbo crept towards the noise until he could make out the shapes of the company below, Gandalf included. Someone inquired as to Bilbo's whereabouts.

"We will not be seeing any more of mister Baggins, I should think," said one of the voices, unmistakably Thorin's.

"Why not?" asked one of the dwarves, maybe Bofur, Bilbo couldn't see. He moved closer, and immediately wished that he hadn't. The expression on Thorin's face was one of pure disgust.

"He's left." Thorin said. "He went back to the shire like he wanted, we'll continue without him."

Bilbo frowned. When had this hatred set in? Of course, the hobbit knew that he was to blame, he was the one who had let it get this far, but he'd never expected this. Bilbo had to set things straight. He pulled off the ring and walked into the clearing, praying that his voice wouldn't fail him.

"Actually, you won't." He said, ignoring the incredulous look on the faces of the company.

"But ho- why?" Stuttered Thorin, relief and anger fighting for dominance as he tried to make sense of the situation. Why was the hobbit still here? Gandalf stepped forward, his expression infuriatingly placid, as always.

"Well, why does it matter? He's back." Reasoned the wizard.

"It matters. I want to know, why did you come back?" Thorin demanded. He was looking to Bilbo now, and though his face was still set in a stoic, unmoving frown, Thorin's eyes were pleading. Bilbo did his best to hold the king's gaze.

"Look, I know you doubt me, I know you always have. And you're right - I often think of Bag End, I miss my books, and my armchair, and my garden. See, that's where I belong, that's home. That's why I came back - 'cause you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you, but I will help you take it back if I can."

Bilbo stopped himself there. This was neither the time nor place for declarations of love. His ears caught the sounds of howling, too near for his comfort. Gandalf affirmed his fears.

"Orcs." One word, and the hope spurred by their escape froze and crumbled, so much dust in the wind. The company stood there, unsure, until someone pointed out the blurry outline of a warg further up the mountain. "Run!" Yelled Gandalf, and tense muscles sprang into action as the dwarves scrambled to widen the gap between themselves and danger. Snapping teeth and snarling mouths tailed them as they sprinted, and they were soon overtaken, wargs and orcs blocking every path. The dwarves drew their blades with bloodlust on their faces and began hacking their way through, unhindered by the impressive odds against them.

Bilbo drew sting as he ran, and did his best to turn the terrified screams pouring out of his mouth into something a bit more battle worthy. He ran, if you could call it that, as swiftly as a hobbit could, and still found himself being left behind. As he struggled to keep up, one of the wargs turned, vicious eyes meeting Bilbo's terrified ones. The creature moved towards him, long strides quickly morphing into a full out run as the hobbit backed up, slamming against a tree as panic washed over him. Bilbo couldn't move, his muscles were frozen under the onslaught of horror and adrenaline. He could see the warg running, closer, closer, and as it leapt, the feet between them turning to inches, his sword arm rose of its own accord. Bilbo felt the blade pierce flesh, and he stared, amazed, at the creature on the ground beside him. He, Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, had slain a warg. After pulling his sword out, the hobbit looked up to find that he was the only member of the company still on the ground. Behind him, the wargs were grinding their teeth together in anticipation, and the noise was all the inspiration Bilbo needed. He ran towards the company and flung himself onto a branch, scrambling awkwardly up a tree as the wargs growled below.

The pack closed in, and through the darkness a white warg strode, carrying an orc with scars etched deep into his chest. Bilbo recalled the story that Balin had told him earlier, about Azog the defiler. Bilbo shivered at the thought. Perhaps his feelings blinded him to the dwarf's faults, but the idea of an enemy that Thorin could not destroy terrified him. He looked over at the dwarf, high up in another of the trees. Fury was written across every feature, mixed with a kind of defeat that burrowed into Bilbo's mind and seated itself there. He would never live to forget that expression. Beneath the trees, the pale orc's lips curled into an icy sneer, and he barked commands at his compatriots. The wargs rose up, shaking the trees with their enormous paws as they clawed their way up the gnarled trunks. One by one, the sturdy pines began to topple, and the dwarves were forced from one tree to the next, the branches that supported them getting progressively less sturdy. As the beasts pushed forward, the single remaining tree shaking under their efforts, Bilbo saw something bright fly by him. Fili caught the object, a fiery pinecone, immediately lit another and handed it to the hobbit. Looking around, Bilbo saw that top to bottom, the great pine was aglow with firelight. Gandalf threw his pinecone at the ground, and the dry grass caught fire, the blaze moving quickly towards the wargs. The company followed suit, and soon the ground was flaming, burning bright in the darkness. The flames had managed to hold the creatures back, but a few harsh words from the pale orc sent the beasts springing at the tree once more, this time with greater purpose. The great trunk began to crack, threatening to dangle them out over the precipice, yet the dwarves kept throwing. As the pine fell, they abandoned their makeshift weapons and clung helplessly to the branches. The wargs circled, examining their prey, and Bilbo could see flecks of yellowed foam dripping from their open mouths. Flames engulfed the cliff, and as they crawled onto the tree trunk, Thorin Oakenshield rose from the midst of the disaster and began to walk.

Down off the tree trunk he strode, towards Azog, and in his face was the rage and agony of his memories. Thorin had lost his home, his family, and his title, yet he was still pushing through, stumbling through life in the dark after a tiny prick of light. The dwarf walked, then ran towards his foe, roaring something in Khuzdul. As he sprinted, the white warg sprung, its claw catching the dwarf kings face and throwing him violently to the ground. He recovered from the blow quickly, rising to face Azog. He swung his blade, but the attempt was in vain, the pale orc's mace knocked the wind out of him, and Thorin's limp body hit the ground with a sickening thud. Bilbo watched in horror as an orc stepped up to his king, raising his blade to behead Thorin. The dwarf made a pitiful grab for Orcrist, but the sword was out of his reach, so all he could do was lay uselessly on the ground awaiting death. The sight of Thorin on the brink of oblivion, the thought of the king dying before he could reclaim his throne, made Bilbo feel… savage. He wouldn't let those foul creatures have Thorin.

He ran. Ran for Erebor, a kingdom far too long without its king; he ran for the dwarves who had decided to face innumerable odds for the dreams of one man; ran for Thorin, the arrogant, insufferable, exasperating dwarf that he had fallen for. Bilbo ran for love, and it was Thorin's image in his mind as he tackled the orc to the ground. They tumbled together, and Bilbo pinned the creature to the ground and sheathed his sword in its ribcage, twisting the blade for good measure. In different circumstances, the hobbit would have been appalled at his lack of remorse, but he was too far gone with anger to care. Bilbo was alone in a circle of wargs and orcs, standing protectively in front of Thorin's unconscious body. Fili and Kili scrambled up to join the hobbit, and together they took on the wargs. The events of the world dwindled down to kill or be killed, and Bilbo finally understood the primal rush of battle, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he hacked through the thick fur of a warg. He had never felt so alive. Bilbo was so engrossed that he took no notice of the eagles soaring overhead, swooping down to carry the dwarves to safety. Only when one of the birds swooped down to take Thorin and bear him away into the skies did the hobbit still his blade. Eyes on the dwarf, Bilbo felt himself being lifted, and he grew limp as the eagle carried him away through the night.

When they reached the Carrock, an eagle placed Thorin gently on the stone and flew off. As the company was set down, they rushed to their king's side. Gandalf had a hand placed on the dwarf's eyes, and he was muttering something under his breath. Thorin's eyes moved under closed lids, and fluttered open to look around through dark lashes.

"The Halfling," he breathed, sitting up. Gandalf smiled knowingly.

"Mister Baggins is with us, and he is unharmed." The wizard said. Thorin relaxed visibly, and when he saw Bilbo slide off the back of an eagle, he stood to face the hobbit. The company watched the two fondly, expecting the happy reunion they'd been waiting for.

"You!" Thorin yelled, "What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed! Did I not say that you would be a burden, that you would not survive in the wild and that you have no place amongst us?" The dwarves tensed, and Fili had to place a hand on his brother's chest to restrain him. Thorin smiled. "I've never been more wrong." With that, he pulled Bilbo into a tight embrace, and the hobbit buried his face in Thorin's shoulder. The king pulled back at the sound of a choked off sob, and saw that Bilbo was crying. "What's wrong my love?" Thorin asked, and the hobbit looked up at the endearment, confused.

"You… I thought you…" Bilbo said, tripping over his words as he looked for an explanation.

"Oh but surely you knew how I felt? That is why you'd been avoiding me, no?" Thorin asked. Bilbo moved to speak, but the dwarf continued. "I realize that my affections are one-sided, but if you remain with me on this quest I will conceal them, you have my word."

"You don't have to," Bilbo heard himself say. Thorin looked at him, unsure of what the hobbit was saying. "Conceal them, I mean. You don't… because I feel the same way."

"Why did you not tell me?"

"I didn't think you would react this way." Behind him, Bilbo could hear Bofur whispering something, and the surprised gasps of the company. Thorin paid no mind, only looked at the hobbit, then down towards his boots.

"I… had intended to propose." Came the whisper, and Bilbo could not hold back the laughter that bubbled up inside him. Thorin drew back, hurt, and the hobbit realized what it had looked like, him laughing at the idea of a proposal.

"Thorin," he began, "we're already wed." The dwarf's eyebrows lifted, searching for an explanation, and as Bilbo spoke, he began to smile, and he stopped the hobbit.

"This will not do. I wanted a proper wedding, and I've gone and fouled things up." He took Bilbo's small hand in his. "Would you do me the honor of marrying me?" Bilbo looked up at him.

"As many times as you want me to."

Thorin could no longer hold out. He clasped the hobbits face in both hands and unceremoniously smashed their faces together. The reaction he received from the hobbit was completely unexpected, but not at all unfavorable. Bilbo leaned into the kiss, locking his arms around Thorin's neck, opening his mouth and making a noise that he would deny later. Thorin pulled away, gesturing to Bilbo that there were still people present. The members of the company were looking at them smugly, marveling at the absurdity of the scene: a dwarf king and a hobbit in each other's arms. Ori sighed longingly, and Dwalin made a series of rude gestures at Thorin, who smirked at him fondly. Bilbo, still held in the dwarf's embrace, looked up at Thorin, squirming.

"Your belt buckle is poking me again Thorin. It was doing that earlier on the ponies too." The dwarf only laughed and leaned down to whisper in Bilbo's ear.

"'Tis no belt buckle."


	4. Chapter 4

The company was gathered on the Carrock, having returned there after a long night's sleep in its shelter. Thorin refused to continue the quest till he and Bilbo were properly wed, and he wanted to marry there, so the dwarves had scaled the great rock once more. Balin stood up on the peak with the couple, the rest of the company looking on from lower down. Kili stood at the front, giggling, but an elbow jab from his brother and a dirty look from Balin soon quieted him. The elder turned, laughing towards Bilbo and Thorin.

"Now before we begin I want to make sure you both understand what's going on here." Thorin smiled easily, and the company laughed with him.

"I'll remember this one Balin." Thorin chuckled. The old dwarf looked at him quizzically.

"I wasn't talking to you." Balin said jokingly, turning to Bilbo. "You are aware that you'll have to spend the rest of your life with him, right? Really, as insufferable as he is now, it can only get worse." Thorin coughed loudly, and gave Balin an exasperated look, and the dwarf stopped, pulling something out of his pocket. The bead's silver finish glinted in the sunlight as Balin placed it in Bilbo's hand. The Halfling turned the bead, marveling at the tiny dwarvish runes carved in the sides. He ran a thumb over a jewel set in the center, and Thorin's hand wrapped around his.

"The first jewel I ever mined. Dwarves keep them for life, usually in secret, but I wanted it to be a part of this." Their hands slipped away from each other, and Bilbo threaded his hands into Thorin's hair. The Halfling looked at Balin.

"I know what I'm doing." The halfling said. "I'm going on an adventure." The old dwarf smiled.

"Proceed." Bilbo began to braid, taking more care than last time to ensure that the pattern was perfect as Thorin sang.

Two as on twisted together

Lives entangled till the end

Fair or foul we both shall weather

Any storm that fate may send

Years wear ever on

Dawn then dusk then dawn

Love will last till life has passed

Say forever with this song

As the song came to a close, Bilbo wove the bead into the end of the braid, and ran his hands through Thorin's hair one more time. Looking up at Thorin, something surged through his blood, and he rose up on his tiptoes to plant a kiss on the dwarf's cheek, lingering there a while. Slowly, Bilbo kissed his way to Thorin's mouth, gently pressing their lips together. Well, it was gentle, but apparently Thorin had other ideas. Large hands grabbed Bilbo's hips, lifting the hobbit off the ground as Thorin kissed him, and what started out as a tiny press of lips turned into more. Bilbo could feel the dwarf's beard, rough on his cheek as a tongue traced his lower lip. The hobbit wrapped his legs around Thorin, tilting his head and- oh that was not a belt buckle! Bilbo remembered all at once that there were others present, and he pulled away from Thorin, sliding down to the ground awkwardly. He looked around for the other dwarves, but the Carrock was empty save him and Thorin. Hands grabbed at Bilbo's shoulders, turning him around to face his husband. The dwarf's jacket was spread out on the ground behind them, and Thorin gestured towards it uncertainly, walking out towards the edge of the Carrock.

"In tradition the couple usually..." Thorin glanced at the jacket. "Consummate the marriage."

Bilbo's eyes widened in understanding, and he nodded, stepping back into Thorin's personal space.

"It's not like I wasn't expecting this. Well, maybe not here, but I knew… no, I hoped we would-"

Bilbo's words were cut off by Thorin's mouth pressed against his, and he sank into the kiss, whimpering a little as the dwarf bit his lower lip. Bilbo closed his eyes to take in the sensation,, but Thorin pulled away at the noise. Bilbo couldn't stand the separation, and he threw himself back into the kiss, jumping up to wrap his legs around Thorin's waist as the dwarf's mouth made a path down the hobbit's neck. Thorin stopped to nip lightly at Bilbo's collarbone where it disappeared into a shirt, growling softly when the hobbit's clothing stopped him. He put Bilbo down, calloused palms brushing skin as Thorin tugged the offending garment off. The dwarf's shirt soon followed Bilbo's, and he picked the hobbit up again. The dwarf laid Bilbo down on his jacket, hovering over the little body under him. Thorin slowed himself, they had time, he dared not rush this. Leaning down, the dwarf continued his exploration of Bilbo's chest and shoulders, scattering kisses and love bites across the pale expanse of skin, each one earning a shudder and a moan from the hobbit. Bilbo's hands grasped at Thorin's shoulders, nails leaving tiny marks where he held the dwarf. Lips made their way back up to Bilbo's mouth, softer this time than before, and the hobbit pushed into it, moving his hands to tug at Thorin's hair. They pulled apart, and the dwarf looked at him, surprised.

"I can handle this, Thorin," Bilbo breathed, "you don't have to hold back."

You don't have to hold back. Thorin didn't have time to wonder if the hobbit knew what he was getting into, he was too far gone. He bit down at the juncture of Bilbo's shoulder, swiping his tongue over the mark he left there before yanking the hobbit's smallclothes off in one swift motion. Thorin pulled the rest of his clothing off, falling back towards Bilbo and into another kiss. The sound Bilbo made as the dwarf took his mouth was perfect, needy and beautiful. Bilbo raised his hips, searching for friction, and Thorin complied, grinding downward into the hobbit and swallowing his moans with a kiss. The dwarf reached a hand up and pushed two fingers past Bilbo's lips. Thorin continued pushing his hips down into the hobbit, pulling little mewling noises out of Bilbo's throat as he sucked. Satisfied, he took his hand away, and Bilbo leaned up for a kiss. The hobbit tensed as Thorin's fingers pushed into him, squeezing his eyes shut against the unfamiliar feeling, until the dwarf's fingertips brushed something inside him. Bilbo arched his back, pressing down against the sensation as his hands tangled in Thorin's jacket. He had no control over the sounds he was making now, and he lost himself in the onslaught of Thorin's hands and lips as the dwarf prepared him. A whine escaped Bilbo as the dwarf pulled away, and Thorin laughed.

"Patience, halfling," he said, and Bilbo could feel the dwarf's hands close around his hips, fingernails digging into the soft flesh. Thorin grit his teeth against the pleasure as he pushed into the hobbit's small body, Bilbo a writhing mess under him. He rolled his hips, and the hobbit's hands flew up to tangle in his hair, pulling Thorin downwards. They met in a fierce kiss, and Thorin fucked into Bilbo, reveling in the noises the halfling made with each thrust. Bilbo's hips rose to meet every harsh movement, and they breathed in tandem, the air heavy with sweat and sex. Thorin's rhythm faltered, and the heat pooling in him spilled over, filling Bilbo. The halfling shuddered beneath him, keening as he came, and all light left him as he tumbled into unconsciousness. Thorin carried him down the carrock, and the two fell asleep curled together, sated and blissful.


End file.
